An Aunt's Advice
by TeeBee
Summary: [complete] Harry recieves the first piece of practical advice his aunt ever gave him at a terrible time in his life. You might want to read one of my other stories, Sisterly Love, first.
1. A Star Fallen

Summer 1996

Harry sat in his bedroom, for the umpteenth afternoon in a row, listening to the neighborhood children playing through the open window. Far off, he could hear squeals and poundings. Dudley's gang had gotten hold of some other kid.

He crossed over from the desk to his bed and collapsed onto it. He turned his head so he could see the stacks and stacks of letters he had received so far. He hadn't answered any of them. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, not after what had happened to Sirius ... how was anyone supposed to get on with life after that?

Every morning, Harry sent a short letter that said "I'm fine, Love Harry" to the Order at 12 Grimmould Place, just so no one would come down to check up on him. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts ... he'd have to deal with the consequences of his stupidity soon enough, as soon as he returned to school ...

Aunt Petunia was vacuuming downstairs. Harry lay curled up on his bed, trying not to think of what had happened in June, it was all too terrible ... The vacuuming stopped. Harry got up, suddenly realizing he needed to use the bathroom. Badly.

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AN: I know that was really extremely short, but it's just an introduction so you'll know how Harry's feeling at the moment. Please Review.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters! I'm just having fun with JK Rowling's creations!


	2. Through Another's Eyes

Summer 96

Harry returned from the bathroom and collapsed on his bed again. He had been lying there for a few minutes when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He wondered for a moment who it could be. Dudley was out, his uncle was at work ... it must be ...

There was a knock at his door.

Harry didn't move, hardly daring to believe it. Aunt Petunia, knocking at his door? What did she want? He rolled off the bed and opened the door a crack.

He could see his aunt's face framed in the doorway. His room was growing dark, but the hall light was shining so bright it almost blinded him. Harry wished he could get back inside his nice, cool room. He heard the door slam downstairs and knew his uncle was home.

"May I come in?" she asked suddenly.

Harry stared up at her. Why in the world ... She never came in his room anymore, she hadn't for years. He was all ready to say no when he noticed something.

There was something different in her eyes. They looked at him with a softer expression than they normally held. In that moment, his aunt seemed ... almost human. She had the same eyes, the same hair, the same stupid apron, but there was something different about her.

"Sure," he said, and pulled the door open.

He stepped back and she came in. She looked around her, taking in everything, from the messy floor to the calender on which he marked down the days until school started, but said nothing. She looked lost for words.

"Did you want something?" he asked, staring at her. Why was she in here? What could she possibly have to tell him that was so important, when she had barely spoken two words to him all summer?

"I want to talk to you."

She had never done anything like this before ...

His aunt sat down on the rumpled bedcovers of the bed. Harry sat down gingerly after a brief inner struggle, unsure of how close he should sit. In the end, he sat fairly close to her.

"I want to tell you about someone," she said.

Utterly bewildered, Harry said, "Okay."

"She was a beautiful girl," said Aunt Petunia. "Long, curly red hair, beautiful green eyes. Everyone who saw her loved her. I knew her, too. I loved her, too. She was my sister – how could I not?

"She was more than beautiful, she was also kind," she continued. "We had secrets together, secrets we kept from the whole world. Like girlhood crushes and those sort of thing." She was staring down at her lap. Harry was looking at her with a sickened expression on his face. His mother ... she had no right to talk to him about ...

"What are you trying to-"

"Shush and let me finish," she said, though her words didn't have the usual sharpness they always held. The words seemed rounder, softer. The words hadn't changed, her tone had. Her voice. It was the same kind of change her eyes had gone through – they were no longer the same. What had brought about this change?

Why was she talking about his mother?

"You know who I'm talking about by now, don't you?" she said. "Lily. Your mother." Harry could hear his uncle calling for her from downstairs, but his aunt didn't answer.

"I know." He couldn't bear to look at her any longer. He looked down at his hands.

"The truth is," she said, "I miss that part of her, that part that used to be, before she went away to school. I wanted things to be simple again, for me to be jealous and her to comfort me. I became angry when I grew up enough to realize that life is constantly changing and we can't hold on to the old memories and refuse to accept the new, because we miss out on so much ... I didn't go to her graduation, or her wedding ... and she didn't come to mine ... I was young and stupid and couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be just as good as they were before.

"I've messed the past twenty-five years up and I hope you can forgive me."

He looked into her face at the same time she looked into his. Their eyes connected, and for a few moments they were struggling, both of them wanting to break the awkward connection, but neither of them wanting to be the one to do it. Finally, as if in agreement, they looked away together and his aunt continued.

"I don't want you to forgive me now, that would be selfish, because it's impossible to forgive twenty-five years of understanding in a few minutes. But I'd like it if you'd think about forgiving me and all the pain I've caused, and if you can't forgive me for yourself, do it for Lily ... "

Harry nodded, thinking about what she had just said. 'I couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be as good as they were before.' Things sure were different now ... and he wasn't thinking about his aunt.

"I've got to give Vernon his dinner now," she said, "but think about what I said, all right?" He nodded again, and then got up to show her out of the room. He didn't bother to close the door. Dinner would be ready soon, and he found that he was hungry.

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AN: This is the same conversation the two of them had in Sisterly Love, but with a different POV. Please review! I will get the next chapter up soon!

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. I'm just having fun with JK Rowling's creations.


	3. Letters to No One

AN: Please please review! I'm new at this and would appreciate your feedback!

Disclaimer: All these characters belong to JK Rowling.

Letters to No One  
  
Harry lay in bed that night, thinking over Aunt Petunia's strange talk. Not about the talk exactly, but about something she'd said. "_I became angry when I grew up enough to realize that life is constantly changing and we can't hold on to the old memories and refuse to accept the new, because we miss out on so much ... I couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be just as good as they were before." _

Life was constantly changing. A month ago, he'd had Sirius on his side. A month ago, he hadn't known about the prophecy. He'd been happy, Harry realized now. He hadn't felt happy at the time, worrying about stupid things like Umbridge and the Ministry, but he had been.

He'd had Sirius on his side ...

Sirius ... the vail ...

Harry fell into a nightmarish sleep.

He woke with a start early the next morning. The words Aunt Petunia had spoken rang through his head again ... "_I couldn't accept that things could be different yet still be just as good as they were before." _He could be a different kind of happy.

Harry turned his head toward the stacks of letters his friends had sent him. Sirius would have sent him loads of letters by now. Harry rolled out of bed and went over to his desk. He took out a quill and spare piece of parchment and began to write.  
  
**Dear Sirius,**

**I'm fine. The Dursleys are staying away from me, because Moody said the Order'd come after them if they touched me.**

**My aunt's getting all weird, though. You know, sentimental? I guess the thought of Voldemort returning hit her pretty hard. She was the only one who ever met my mum, I think.**

**My summer's been pretty boring, stuck in the house all day. I don't mind. I'd rather face Voldemort later, after I've had a chance to learn how to defend myself against him. Because I want to live. I haven't really kissed anyone yet, except Cho, and she didn't count because ... I dunno, she was practice or something. She doesn't matter to me. And I've never even done it. I _definitely_ don't want to die without having done it. What would Ron think?**

**I want to know everything that's been going on. I heard some things on the Muggle radio the other day ... three kids kidnapped out of a London flat and things like that. Is Voldemort behind any of it? Let me know what's happening and when I can get out of here.  
Harry**  
  
The tears he had tried all summer to hold back flowed freely down Harry's face as he rolled up the parchement. He stuck the scroll in the loose floorboard under his bed, then went downstairs to breakfast.

After breakfast, instead of returning to his bedroom as he usually did, Harry strolled casually into the living room. His uncle had already left for work, Dudley was upstairs sleeping, and Aunt Petunia had gone out to do the shopping.

_I have to do something interesting today_, Harry thought. _Something I can write to Sirius about ... something that'll make him laugh ... _

Harry looked around, trying to think of something that would make Sirius laugh. He spotted a cabinet in a corner of the living room and made his way over to it. No one ever looked in it anymore, it held old photos ...

He searched through the drawers until he found what he was looking for – an old picture of Dudley playing in a sprinkler from when they were five or six years old. His fat stomach drooped over his bathing suit. Harry picked up a pen from the coffee table and carefully drew a curly pig's tail, pig ears, and a pig snout on the photo.

Grinning wickedly, he returned it to it's place and turned to go back upstairs when something caught his eye. There were more.

Harry's grin grew until he thought his face would break. He spent the next five minutes drawing "pig" accessories on his cousin's fat face. A noise outside brought Harry back to reality. Peering around the gauzy curtains, he saw the Dursley's car in the driveway. His aunt was home.

Quickly, Harry returned all the photos to their proper drawers and ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. Harry settled back onto his bed, his grin fading. Yes, Sirius would have laughed at that. He'd have to write him about it tomorrow ...


	4. The Inside Scoop

AN: This one is a little bit longer than the others, anyway - please review!

Disclaimer: None of the characters except Lanie Peters, her mother, her mother's hair stylist, Mrs. Figg's vetaranarian, and the veteranarian's dentist belong to me. The rest are JK Rowling's creations!

The Inside Scoop

Summer 96

Petunia woke up extra early that morning. Something had seemed different about the boy this week. Each morning he seemed a bit more cheerful than he had the day before. Not much, mind you. Just a little.

She wondered briefly what on earth could make him so happy. Just as she was thinking this, she heard a door squeak at the end of the hall. It was HIS door, he was sneaking into the bathroom for an early shower.

Curiosity suddenly overtook her. As soon as Petunia was certain the boy was indeed in the bathroom, she crept out of her bedroom, down the hall, and into his.

She glanced around, looking for a sign of something different. Nothing had changed; everything, from the calendar on the wall to the rumpled bedcovers to the piles of letters had changed.

Petunia looked around, wondering. What had happened to make him so happy? Surely it hadn't been the talk she'd had with him last week? She took another look at the bed. Of course. If the boy had anything to hide he'd have put it under that loose floorboard. She'd discovered it while cleaning in here a few months ago.

Petunia got down on her knees and leaned forward, her hand stretched out on the floor in front of her. She felt her way around until she found the crack in the floor. She groped around and managed to pull up the board.

It was paper.

He was keeping an extra supply of paper under his bed. She felt around in the hole, trying to find something else, something more important, but there was nothing. Sighing impatiently, Petunia pulled out the pieces of strange, thick, yellow paper. They weren't spare at all, he had written what looked like letters on them. The letters looked well worn, as if they'd been read far too often. She began to read:  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_"I'm fine. The Dursleys are staying away from me, because Moody said the Order'd come after them if they touched me. My aunt's getting all weird, though. You know, sentimental? I guess the thought of Voldemort returning hit her pretty hard. She was the only one who ever met my mum, I think. _

_"My summer's been pretty boring, stuck in the house all day. I don't mind. I'd rather face Voldemort later, after I've had a chance to learn how to defend myself against him. Because I want to live. I haven't really kissed anyone yet, except Cho, and she didn't count because ... I dunno, she was practice or something. She doesn't matter to me. And I've never even done it. I definitely don't want to die without having done it. What would Ron think? _

_"I want to know everything that's been going on. I heard some things on the Muggle radio the other day ... three kids kidnapped out of a London flat and things like that. Is Voldemort behind any of it? _

_"Let me know what's happening and when I can get out of here.  
Harry"_  
  
Petunia smiled grimly. She was "_getting all weird_"? She checked the date; yes, he had written this the day after she'd talked with him. And who was Sirius? It wasn't a normal name.

"_Because I want to live_"? He was afraid this ... Voldemort was coming after him? Well of course, that's what that Mumbledumble fellow had told her about. Harry was safe inside the house. So he must have told the boy as well. She laid the first paper aside and picked up the second.  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_"Here's something to make you laugh. This morning I drew pig tails, ears, and noses on Dudley in some old photos I found. He actually looks quite handsome. I think you would have laughed if you had seen them. _

_"A pig in a wig if there ever was one. _

_"Hah! Serves him right, he was picking on a bunch of little kids yesterday. Saw him out the window. Like Malfoy, only Malfoy's worse because he can use magic. _

_"Ooooh, Dudley with a wand. I shudder. _

_"You liked laughing, didn't you, Sirius? You were laughing when Lestrange's curse hit you, you were laughing at her. Is that the way you dealt with things, Sirius, by laughing? Maybe I should try that.  
Harry"_  
  
Petunia looked up from the letter, shocked. He'd drawn ...

Something else caught her eye. _"You **liked** laughing ... you **dealt** ..."_ Everything in the past tense. As if ... as if this Sirius was dead.  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_"When was the first time you fell in love? I've seen the most gorgeous girl ever, Sirius. Her name's Lanie. She lives next door, and her bedroom window is right next to mine. I can see her sometimes ... she's got pretty friends, but they're nothing compared to her. She's a brunette and has dark green eyes and a great laugh. I just noticed her today, and I heard Aunt Petunia talking about her at breakfast this morning. _

_"She said Lanie goes to school in France and one of the French boys over there got her pregnant, but her parents made her give up the baby. I don't think that's true. I mean, any idiot could tell it wasn't true, just by looking at her room ... she has it decorated with butterflies, Sirius. Do you honestly think a girl who would decorate her room with butterflies would get pregnant? _

_"How come you never got married, Sirius? Did you have a girlfriend, before Azkaban? I wish I knew her name. It'd have been cool to meet her.  
Harry"_  
  
Petunia sniffed. She had it on good conscious from Mrs. Figg's cats' veterinarian's dentist, who was sisters with Lanie's mother's hair stylist, that Lanie Peters had indeed gotten pregnant over in France. All the boys in Little Whinging had their eyes on Lanie, who was the boy to think he'd actually be the one to get her?  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_"Have you heard about the examinations? They've examined all those Death Eaters we caught at the Ministry last month, you remember, Malfoy and Avery and Nott and all the others. It was in the Daily Prophet. They found the Dark Mark on all their bodies, and Snape – yeah, Snape – gave testimony that those were the signs of a Death Eater, and then they brought out your examination records, Sirius, and found nothing about a Dark Mark anywhere on your body. _

_"Dumbledore even got them to admit, under Veritaserum, that Wormtail was the Secret Keeper, not you. _

_"Of course, this doesn't help now, but your name is clear. That's what's terrible about all this, we don't get to see Fudge apologize to your face, now that'd be funny. _

_"Oh yeah, Fudge got run out of office, along with Umbridge! Wish I'd have been there, I could have thrown them a Good Riddence party!  
Harry"_  
  
There was a tear mark on the paper.

Petunia couldn't understand much of this letter. She now remembered who this Sirius was – the boy's godfather. He had been charged with murder, only now it seemed he was cleared.

She happened to glance up at the boy's clock. She had been in his room nearly ten minutes, she should be getting out soon, but she was too intrigued by the letters. So it seemed as if Sirius had died ... what was the boy doing writing to him?

The last two letters were the same, sometimes written in a humorous tone, sometimes serious. Petunia quickly returned them to their hiding spot when she heard the boy shut off the water in the bathroom.

Instead of going back to her room, she went downstairs to her writing desk.


	5. Planning

Planning  
  
Summer 96

Two days later, Petunia received an answer to the letter she had sent ... It was from that woman, Mrs. Weasley. She had remembered how a family named Weasley had once come to take the boy to a World Cup game a couple years back and had addressed the letter simply. She was amazed that it had reached its destination.

The letter, written on the same kind of heavy paper as the letters under the floorboard, went:  
  
_"Dear Mrs. Dursley, _

_ "No, we have not met in person, but I have heard so much about you from Harry. _

_ "Yes, what you thought was true, but there was more to it. Sirius Black was killed a few weeks ago. Harry was there. Sirius had been his godfather and a great friend of his parents. They had only known each other a few years, but had gotten very close. Harry has been rather shaken up by it. _

_ "I'm not sure what you mean by 'writing letters.' I shouldn't be worried, though. Different people have different ways of dealing with grief. He might be pretending he is alive, and this imagined correspondence would cushion the blow, so to speak, so that he will only have to deal with the pain when he is a bit more ready for it.  
Molly Weasley"_  
  
Petunia folded it up and proceeded to burn the letter – it wouldn't do for Vernon to find out she'd been writing to those ... those Weasleys.

She kept thinking about the letter though. All through dinner. She was distracted all evening as well. Only when she got into bed did the pieces fall into place.

This Sirius Black, from Mrs. Weasley's and the boy's letters, sounded as if he were to Harry a mixture of father and brother. The cool, motorcycle- rider she had detested all those years ago. Someone who laughed at life, who found humor in everything, yet could be serious when necessary.

As she lay in bed that night, a plan formulated in her mind.

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AN: I know this one was short. The next one will be from Harry's POV and will be longer.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are all JK Rowling's creations.


	6. Answers

Answers  
  
Harry woke up early the next morning as usual. He headed down the hall to the bathroom for his shower, and then returned to his room. Harry sat down at his desk. What could he write to Sirius about today?

Harry wrote the letter quickly. He was in a better mood today, ready to laugh at the world. The letter reflected his mood; he had shared something funny Dudley had done the other day with Sirius.

On a sudden impulse, Harry decided to read his other letters again. He reached under the floorboard and pulled them out – all eight of them. He had only glanced at the first one when something caught his eye. There was something written on the parchment.

Something he hadn't written.  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_ "I'm fine. The Dursleys are staying away from me, because Moody said the Order'd come after them if they touched me. My aunt's getting all weird, though. You know, sentimental? I guess the thought of Voldemort returning hit her pretty hard. She was the only one who ever met my mum, I think. _

_ "My summer's been pretty boring, stuck in the house all day. I don't mind. I'd rather face Voldemort later, after I've had a chance to learn how to defend myself against him. Because I want to live. I haven't really kissed anyone yet, except Cho, and she didn't count because ... I dunno, she was practice or something. She doesn't matter to me. And I've never even done it. I definitely don't want to die without having done it. What would Ron think? _

_ "I want to know everything that's been going on. I heard some things on the Muggle radio the other day ... three kids kidnapped out of a London flat and things like that. Is Voldemort behind any of it? _

_ "Let me know what's happening and when I can get out of here.  
Harry_"

And underneath that was written:  
  
**"Dear Harry, **

** "Yeah, women tend to get sentimental on you, don't they? That Cho girl was probably sentimental too, right? Wouldn't hurt to listen to what she has to say, would it? **

** "Actually, now that I think about it, I remember James complaining about having to go to a dinner party with Lily's sister. I think the whole family went, when you were five or six months old. **

** "Hey, if you want to fool around, don't let me stop you! I did plenty of that in my school days. Just be careful and don't get anyone pregnant, not unless you're truly willing to take the responsibility of a baby. **

** "I miss you, Harry, and I wish more than anything I could be with you, but it's just not like that. This is the way things were supposed to be. Hey, if I'm not down about it, why should you be? **

** "I'll be in touch.  
Sirius"**  
  
Harry leaned back against his bed, breathing hard. He wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to believe more than anything that this reply was genuine, but he knew it wasn't. It was written in pen.

One of the Dursleys must have found the letter and had decided to play a joke on him and pretend it was Sirius writing back. Harry flung the parchment across the room as hard as he could. Stupid, rotten Dursleys. Evil. Foul. Loathsome. Disgusting. Gross. Abominable. There weren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe his hatred.

But then another voice popped up in his mind. _For a moment there, you thought Sirius had written to you. You liked it. You wanted him to answer you, and he did, in a way._

Harry picked up the parchment and took a second look. Whichever one had done it, it looked as if they had done their research well. It would have been a perfect imitation of Sirius's way of writing, if it weren't for the fact that he was ... dead.

It was the first time he'd said that to himself. Sirius was dead. The words took hold of his mind, chanting, "Sirius is dead, Sirius is dead, Sirius is dead," over and over until Harry didn't think he could stand it and he fell face down onto the carpet and cried.  
  
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When his sobs subsided half an hour later, Harry picked up the parchment again curiously. It wasn't so bad. If he really wanted to, he could pretend that Sirius's answers were real ...

Harry read through all his letters again and read "Sirius's" responses. Some of them made him laugh, like Sirius giving him tips on kissing and how to get Lanie Peters to notice him. Most of them made him laugh; Sirius didn't seem to want to write about the hard stuff.  
  
When he finished reading through all the letters, Harry set out to write his own reply.  
  
_"Dear Sirius, _

_ "Thanks for yours advice on Lanie. She and her friends are in their room right now. I can hear them, giggling away about something. There's a Muggle saying – you can't live with them, you can't live without them. Stupid, sentimental, beautiful girls. _

_ "You think Ron and Hermione will ever get together? I dunno, Ron seems jealous and protective of her sometimes. She doesn't regard him too highly though. They're always fighting; it can be a pain. _

_ "Well, that's the story of my life right now, if you can't tell me what's going on with Voldemort. Lying here, day after day after day after day, thinking about you and Lanie Peters. Sigh ... _

_ "Write me back soon.  
Harry"_  
  
He signed his named with a small, sad smile and turned to face his ever- growing pile of letters from Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Hagrid, and practically everyone else in the Order. Pulling out another piece of parchment, he wrote:  
  
_"Dear Everyone, _

_ "Don't worry about me. I'm fine, and I'm talking to someone about Sirius.  
Harry"_  
  
It was the most he'd written all summer.

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AN: How was that? Okay, people, please review this and in your reviews tell me if I should write another chapter to finish it off. I thought maybe one more letter, talking about the hard stuff. Whatever your opinions, please give them and please review! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!

Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to JK Rowling except the plot and Lanie Peters. I was just playing around with her creations!

Another AN: The line "Lying here, day after day ..." is taken from the Sorcerer's Stone movie and belongs I guess to Steven Kloves.

One more AN: My ten-year-old brother and his friends like to sing the chant "Sirius is dead, Sirius is dead," whenever they see me (sometimes in public!) because I cried while reading the part where Sirius dies in OotP. So when you read the chant, imagine five or six ten-year-old boys dancing around you and singing it, because that's what was going through my head when I wrote it.


	7. Hide and Go Seek

Hide and Go Seek  
  
Harry didn't know what was wrong with him. He knew there was no way Sirius could be answering his letters, he knew it had to be someone in the household playing a joke, but he wanted to believe it was real so badly ...

This was one part of his life he couldn't tell anyone else. If Ron or Hermione found out ... they'd think he was mad!

Harry even thought himself mad.

As the weeks went by, Harry couldn't help but notice that "Sirius's" answers were becoming more detailed. Sirius began talking about what had happened that night before he had gone to the Department of Mysteries. There was no way any of the Dursleys knew about that ...  
  
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Petunia looked over her latest letter from Mrs. Weasley.

_ "We were waiting at headquarters, waiting for something to happen. We knew the calm wouldn't last long. The calm before the storm, some might say. Albus Dumbledore hadn't spoken to Harry in so long. We knew it was only a matter of time before something happened ... _

_ "Harry blames Dumbledore, you know. He feels Dumbledore should have told him something ... stop treating him like a child. You know how teenagers get. You want to treat them like adults and are all prepared to, but then they start acting like children again ..._"  
  
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Harry woke up the next morning, surprised to see that Sirius had sent a letter to him. It was sitting on the windowsill. He jumped out of bed and ripped open the letter.  
  
_"Dear Harry, _

_ "This is important. I want to talk to you about the night I died. I hope you are ready. If not, tear this up and forget I ever wrote this to you._"  
  
Harry looked up. Was he ready?

It had been nearly two months since he had had the vision ... He hadn't cried in at least two weeks. He couldn't hear the chant, "Sirius is dead" anymore. The voices had gone away, ever since he had started writing to his godfather ... He was ready.  
  
"I can't explain to you what happens when we go beyond the veil. You aren't supposed to understand that, not until you've died. What I can say is that my death has been harder on the ones I left behind than it has been for myself.

_ "I can still see you, Harry. I'll be able to watch you at school. You can carry me around with you, your own personal friend. You can hear my advice from behind the veil. You'll know I'm there. _

_ "Don't blame anyone for my death, least of all yourself or Dumbledore or anyone else. I never did what I didn't want to do, Harry. I never believed in all my family's lies, even though they wanted me to. I made the decision to follow you to the Ministry that night. You didn't force me to, Dumbledore didn't force me to, nobody forced me to. I did it. _

_ "Don't worry about me and forget to live, Harry. LIVE. Take life by the shoulders and shake it! Make the most of your time here. You'll join me soon enough, but you've got to LIVE first. _

_ Sirius"_  
  
Harry placed the letter carefully on his lap. He had heard the voices behind the veil. He had been stupid back then, had thought that he could pull Sirius back ...

Sirius was stuck behind the veil, but that didn't mean he, Harry, had lost him. He could still hear Sirius's laugh, couldn't he? He could still see Sirius's broadly grinning face, couldn't he?

Sirius was not gone. He was in hiding ... yes, they were only playing hide- and-seek. Harry would search for him, and Sirius would call out tantalizing hints from behind his hiding place ... but Harry would never find him, not until he himself died.

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AN: Depressing, huh? Anyway, I think there will be one more chapter after this ... Hey, did anyone catch the "he, Harry" I threw in? Those drive me crazy in the books! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to JK Rowling. I was just having fun with her creations.


	8. The Process Begins

The Process Begins  
  
Hermione lay spread out on her bedspread. This summer was going so slowly ... School had only ended a month ago, and here she was, dying to go back.

Then again, it wasn't as if this summer was turning out to be exciting. She spent most of her time in her room, lying on the flowered bedspread, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen ... just waiting ...

Hermione hadn't been in touch with anyone all summer long. It was too dangerous to send letters by owl post, and the only letters she was interested in receiving were the ones from wizards. It was maddening, not knowing what was going on ... Not talking to anyone for a solid month ...

Except her parents, but what good were they? They couldn't understand her life anymore; her life was at Hogwarts, in the wizarding world, not here.

Hermione gave a lonely sigh. She hoped her friends were having a better summer than she was, though it wasn't likely. Harry was probably still beating himself up about Sirius ... about Sirius dying, and Ron's house was probably tense and alert at all times, with both his parents and two of his older brothers in the Order.

----------------

Much much later, Hermione heard a soft flop downstairs that meant the mail had come. Hermione sighed again at her patheticness as she rolled over and went downstairs to get it. The coming of the mail was the most exciting point of her day ...

She glanced quickly at the return addresses on all the letters. Bill ... bill ... catalog, she'd look through it up in her room ...local newspaper ... Harry?

Hermione looked down at the letter in surprise. There was no mistake, it was definitely from him ... it was addressed to her in his rounded, even handwriting. Setting down the bills, newspaper, and catalog, Hermione carried the letter gingerly up to her room, as if she was afraid it would explode if she handled it too roughly.

She plopped down onto her bed with a plop, tore the letter open, and began to read:  
  
_"Dear Hermione, _

_ "I hope you're having a great time. Have you spoken to anyone about ... you know. I think Muggle post is safe, don't you? _

_ "My summer's ... I'm not going to lie to you, my summer's lousy. Like really lousy. I've been thinking about Sirius, you think he was the type to laugh at life? Like Ron sort of, only less Ron-like. I mean, he could take any situation and laugh at it, but he also knew how to be serious? _

_ "He's got a very appropriate name. Serious with a twist. _

_ "Dumbledore once said the dead we love never truly leave us. That's true, isn't it? Sirius said that we have a personal veil we carry around, and that everyone we love is behind the veil, and we can hear them and see them and feel them, but they can't come to life. _

_ "I don't know, I'm not having a very good summer, and if you've heard from Ron, could you tell me what he says? If Muggle post is safe, of course. I have something to tell the two of you, but I only want to tell you when we're all together. _

_ "I really really miss everyone, but I think I can stand to wait another month or two before going back to school, before I have to see everyone again.  
Harry" _

_--------------------------_

AN: Okay, thanks to everyone who reviewed. And if you haven't - please please do!!!! It really means a lot to me.

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Everything belongs to JK Rowling. I was just having fun with her characters.


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